The Devil In You
by the one a.m. writer
Summary: Neal and Verity own a small, Christian diner. Dean, Sam, and Cas come to eat at the diner. Strict Christianity and Dean don't really mix. T for light language.
1. The Devil In You

_Neal and Verity own a small, Christian diner. Dean, Sam, and Cas come to eat at the diner. Strict Christianity and Dean don't really mix._

It's super late... and I'm living up to my username!

(This story is NOT meant to provide my views on Christianity or Christians, nor is it meant to provide an accurate representation of all Christians. It's just meant to be amusing. Sorry.)

* * *

Neal and Verity are the owners of this proud establishment, a quaint, homely little diner off the side of the road in Nebraska. Neal's brother is a priest, and Verity's Cottage (the establishment's name) is adorned with crosses and other religious symbols. Needless to say, the entire extended family (family-in-law included) is extremely religious. Neal and Verity consider this place a respite for the poor Christian souls run ragged in a world of sinners.

Three men walk into the diner, and Verity distrusts them immediately.

She doesn't even know why; it's just a feeling. The three men are all tall and tough-looking, with hardened faces and worn eyes. One of them is practically a giant, with indecently shaggy hair. They are all scarred, and they all look as if nothing could faze them.

They waltz in like they own the place, standing too close together. Verity seats them at a booth. Immediately, the giant takes one side and the two smaller ones take the other, sliding close together: the shortest slides in first, the one with the worst clothes slides in second.

Verity thinks she should have seated them at a table with chairs, because the two men on one side of the booth appear to be- she can't even bring herself to think the word. _Sinners,_ she thinks instead, blanket-covering their particular sin. _Very_ misguided souls.

They order, or at least, the giant and the ripped-jacket wearer order. The shortest man with the blue eyes does not order.

Verity brings their orders to Neal, in the kitchen. She voices her worries in a whisper.

"I'm sure it's fine," Neal says. "We get odd people all the time, honey."

"Yes," Verity agrees. "Yes, we do."

Besides, the men had to have seen the sign. The sign that said Christian Establishment. The subtext of that sign said that _those_ sins would not be tolerated here.

Verity brings back food to the two men.

"Thanks," Giant says, taking the food with a smile.

"Thanks," Ripped Jacket repeats, taking his food as well. They both begin to eat. Giant is well-mannered. Ripped Jacket is less so.

Blue Eyes reaches over and steals a fry from Ripped Jacket's plate. The man laughs. Blue Eyes tries the fry, and seems to determine it unworthy. After taking a small bite, he sets it down.

"Why do you keep trying food?" Ripped Jacket asks, smiling as he pops the rest of the fry in his mouth.

"I don't know," says Blue Eyes. "I do find a certain pleasure in stealing your food."

Ripped jacket rolls his eyes teasingly and says, "Asshole."

Verity winces.

Blue Eyes takes another fry and contemplates it, rolling it between his fingers. "The process that this food item went through-"

"Shh!" interrupts Ripped Jacket, taking the fry and placing it carefully in his mouth. He talks around it. "Respect the fry, man; don't tell me stuff I don't need to know."

"Stuff you don't want to know, you mean," Giant clarifies.

Blue Eyes steals another fry anyway, after Ripped Jacket has taken a bite of burger. This time, he places it on top of the napkin dispenser deliberately. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes are dancing with amusement.

"Cas!" Ripped Jacket whines.

Blue Eyes, or Cas, tilts his head innocently.

"Give it back," Ripped Jacket orders childishly.

"I don't know what you are referring to, Dean," Cas says.

Dean glares at Cas. "My fry."

"So much effort over three calories worth of food," Giant says.

"Oh, shut up, Sam," Dean says. He leans over Cas, reaching for the fry. Cas tries to push him away. Dean refuses to be pushed away. He wraps Cas in one arm and grabs the fry with the other hand.

"You realize," Cas says, "I could push you on the floor with no more effort than it would take for you to eat that fry."

"But you won't," Dean says.

"Oh, get a room, you two," Sam grumbles.

Verity misses the response of "You shut your pie-hole, Sammy!" because she is busy heading back toward Neal. She's heard what she needed to hear. These men needed to be out of her establishment.

Verity comes back with Neal in tow. She points her finger at the man with the most blatant- she forces herself to think the dreaded word- _homosexual_ tendencies. Dean.

"You have the Devil in you!" she announces.

The three men freeze, and go silent.

Dean looks to Cas, and to Sam, then back to Cas, and Sam again. He begins to laugh.

All the sudden, all three are laughing hard.

"Oh!" Dean says in surprise, "You mean he was here the whole time? Looks like your search is over, Cas!"

This makes the men laugh harder, and it makes Verity and Neal more uncomfortable. Sam points out calmly, "Out of the three of us at the table… she picked the only one who _hasn't_ had the Devil in them."

More laughter, bordering on the hysteria of very little sleep.

"We'll leave," Dean says, before Verity can collect her wits. They stand and move toward the door. They haven't left any money.

"Wait," Neal says, voice low. He's tall. He's not as tall as Sam, but he's as tall as Dean. He can try to intimidate them. "You have to pay."

Cas stares him in the eyes as he interrupts, "It is your intolerance for change, rather than your misguided sense of religion, that causes you to reject homosexuals. It is telling that your desire for currency outweighs your wish to have us out of your shop. You will have your money."

Money appears on the table. Verity and Neal glance at it, shaken. Dean's eyebrows shoot upwards.

"And we will depart." Cas grips Dean's left hand and Sam's right, and they're gone.

("How much money did you leave?" asks Sam.)

("One hundred dollars. I am curious to see if their desire for currency overcomes their distrust for what just happened.")

("Dude," says Dean. "That was classic. Better than the time we got chased out of the whorehouse.")

("When what?" Sam asks. )

("Oh, man… this was back when the Michael/Lucifer thing was happening, and Cas thought he was going to die in the morning…")

* * *

 **So... this was fun. Yes, the entire story was a setup for the "You have the Devil in you!" "No, but they both did!" joke.**

 **Note from the other side of the internet: Gays don't _actually_ have the Devil in them- there's only one Devil, see, they can't all have him. Duh. Maybe they've each got a demon? **


	2. No Devils Here

_So... I don't usually write sequels to stuff. I just felt inspired by the reviews, I guess. I LOVE YOU GUYS! I LOVE YOUR REVIEWS!_

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Verity has had a day to recover from the shock of the disappearing homosexuals. Her encounter has only made her more convinced they are in league with the Devil. The whole lot.

She clears the tables, and conveniently forgets where the money came from when she picks up a stack of five twenties. There are people to seat and serve, and Verity uses the work to take her mind off her revelation.

A man in a suit walks in confidently. There's a woman in a business skirt and blouse with him. He's chatting with her amicably. Two more walk in behind them, another man and woman, both dressed nicely.

"Hello," Verity greets.

"Hello," says the man in a wonderful accent that Verity can't place. The man is about as tall as Verity, with black hair and a beard, and he speaks with authority. Verity thinks he might be in charge of a large company.

"Over here," Verity says, directing them toward a booth. It's a different booth than the infamous Booth of Disappearing Homosexuals, which Verity has subconsciously avoided placing anyone at. The man with the accent takes a seat next to one of the women, and the other man and woman take seats across from them.

Verity smiles.

All four of the people at the table order food. Before placing her order, the woman next to the man with the accent glances up at him.

"Get whatever you want. It's on me," says the man with the accent. "We're celebrating."

"Thanks, Crowley," says the woman, and orders her food.

Crowley is a strange name, but Verity isn't going to complain about her best customers. Her wonderful customers who seem to have properly Christian values.

"What are we celebrating?" asks the other man.

"The chance to be away from the home office for a while," says Crowley. "It gets so stuffy, there, don't you think?"

"Yes sir," agrees the woman across from Crowley.

Verity moves on to other tables while her favorite customers chat and eat. She returns to their table often to see if they need anything, but they usually tell her "No" with a polite smile.

One of the women starts coughing. Verity rushes over.

"Sorry," the woman says. "It was a bit salty."

"Let me fix that, dear," says Verity, and she whisks away the plate and brings it back salt-free. The woman takes a bite and grins.

"Much better."

Verity eventually cleans their table, and returns with the bill a bit later. Crowley pulls cash out of his pocket and hands to her.

"Keep the change," he says, smiling, and their group left.

Verity thought that it had been the most calming, wonderful day she could possibly ask for in her quaint Christian diner.

("How much money did you give her?" one demon asks.)

("$100," Crowley replies. "It doesn't really matter. They're fake bills.")

("Excellent, sir.")

 _-EPILOGUE-_

When Verity took the cash to the bank that week, she was very happy to see the extra $200 dollars in $20 bills. Sure, half of it was from the homosexuals, and probably from the Devil by extension, but money was money.

"Ma'am?" the woman at the desk asked.

"Yes?"

"Five of these bills are fake," the woman says. She holds up the top five.

If Verity was a cruder person, she would have cursed, if only in her thoughts. Instead, she thinks calmly, _This is why you don't trust those who work with the Devil._

Even as she thinks that, she remembers that she'd put Crowley's money on top of the pile…

* * *

 **Verity is a distinctly bad judge of character.**


End file.
